


Changes

by TymBunn



Series: Shimadacest Week [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Day 1, M/M, Shimadacest Week, changes, mentions of vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TymBunn/pseuds/TymBunn
Summary: Shimadacest Week: Day 1Hanzo learns to adapt to the changes he caused in Genji, slowly, but he learns.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Forgiveness / Reconciliation

Hanzo traced his fingers over the small groves over the different marks, dips, joints and plates on Genji’s metal body and observed him as one would observe a well-crafted vehicle from long ago or the oiled grain in wood. 

Regarding him like the inhuman thing he was. 

The plates may shine and the lights might make him glow like a urethral being in the night; but he was still his brother that had forced him to take drastic measures against him both for his family honour and his own sick love. 

He never wanted to love him like he did anyway, or at least that was what Hanzo told himself.

—–

Soon Hanzo learnt that Genji couldn’t eat in the way that he did with delicate chopsticks, or how Rienhardt boasted around a mouthful, or how Doctor Ziegler took delicate bites whenever she could sit down to have a meal. 

It was even worse when he asked. 

His throat reached far enough to allow a voice modifier work around his tattered vocal chords. He could place food in his mouth and swallow, but ended up over a toilet or a trash can afterwards and cleaning the synthetic material with a chemical that would have sent anyone else to the morgue. 

It made Hanzo’s heart and stomach clench together in union, despite the different reasons he knew of.

—–

One of Hanzo’s annoyances as a young man was navigating Genji’s room, stepping over used clothes and an unmade futon littered with whatever his newest obsession was. Many toys had been broken underfoot when he was younger. 

But now the room was barren. 

All that it held was equipment for his weapons and a single photograph that even Hanzo is unsure of how he collected it. A few other objects remain still including some which he guesses are for adjusting the simpler parts of his new body, but doesn’t dare to ask as he drops to his knees in front of Genji.

He doesn’t remember much besides his tears and hair getting caught in finger joints. 

—– 

Hanzo slowly learns to accept things as he did with anything else: the way his arm used to bruise before he learned how to use a bow, or how he came to settle with the guilt leaning heavy on his shoulders over the years. 

He will lean how to accept a metal body pressed against his own.

Even the simple things such as a kiss to the cheek or a smile touch of brushing knuckles are reserved for empty hallways or their rooms. They don’t have to exactly, but they still act like young boys hiding forbidden attraction from their father’s eagle eye across the compound. 

But Hanzo decides he can learn to live with it eventually, because this forgiveness is not something he will throw away easily.


End file.
